Changing Colours
by E1Bashers MSDevourer JazzluvTF
Summary: Their history was replaced, their bodies were reformatted, their minds were changed. The Strikers were Shockwave's greatest acheivement, and one of Megatron's many great weapons at his disposal. Pairings in the first chapter.


To the humans, Earth seemed endless.

They chopped away at it's trees, hooked up millions of fish, drilled right to the core of their planet and back again, just for some useless fuel. Then went back to do it all over again. Meanwhile, the others were poisoning their air, putting down their pets at will and abusing their offspring in ways that was almost taboo to speak of. Anyone who understood all the damage and horrors of life, anyone who faced reality and saw and experience all the indecenties that were occuring, was normally ridiculed by their foolish-minded peers, and ignored. Just another voice in the crowd, drowned out by all the others. They refused to face the facts that were before them. Happily accepted being able to turn a blind eye to things, until things reached a breaking point.

Megatron was disgusted.

How could humans live with themselves? How could Optimus, the fool, want to protect such a foul species? Megatron looked at them and only saw corruption and greed. Optimus... Primus knew, or cared, what Optimus saw. He was just as blind, just as utterly stupid, as all the humans were. His need for "justice" had ultimately corrupted him in it's own right. While he was so concentrated on the human race, he turned his back on his own kind, refusing to acknowledge their dying cries for mercy as they were hunted across the galaxy. Megatron let out a quiet snarl, knowing full well the extent of everything lost. But Optimus? No. He was but a young child compared to Megatron, influenced by the thoughts and ways of his teachers and leaders. He wouldn't be able to see anything except what they permitted him to see. The Decepticon Lord was surprised the coward still remembered what he was fighting for, without someone there to point him in the right direction, tell him what he was supposed to believe.

So gullible. So weak. Though Megatron couldn't exactly call him a coward... standing up to Megatron in every battle, that took guts, as the humans said. But again, only because his superiors had once expected him to. Optimus needed someone to command him, but was now too stubborn to ever admit it. Ever since he'd received that blasted Matrix, Optimus had gone from a thoughtful student to a stubborn moron, for lack of a better word. But still. He may be a Prime, but even he couldn't hold Megatron's troops off forever. Not with what Megatron had in store for him.

His comm. buzzed.

**_"Shockwave, reporting_**,**_ my Lord."_**

"And what news do you bring, Shockwave?" Megatron casually inquired over the link, red optics sharply raking over the cloudy scenery the _Nemesis _granted him.

**_"The four are on their way, sir. They should be there within the week."_**

Megatron could only grin.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack's optics narrowed, alert and cautious as he carefully advanced into the unknown terrain. He'd briefly stopped on the far away planet, just to see if he could catch any other bots (Autobot or otherwise) cruising past. What could he say? Hanging around by yourself in space for an extended period of time got kinda lonesome. Almost to the point where he missed the Decepticons back on Earth. At least now he was certain of one of the permament planets the 'Cons had set up on. And if he could round up more Autobots, go back there guns blazing... well, what would be stopping the Autobots from winning this war once and for all? Optimus was doing fine with just his small team. Imagine what they could do with hundreds- no, thousands more. The Decepticon forces would be squashed.<p>

But whilst Wheeljack had been looking for a bit of excitement, he hadn't expected _this._

He knew there were Decepticons in the area- that much was a given. He also, unfortunately, knew exactly who they were, which... wasn't entirely a good thing. He'd faced them before, some time after Bulkhead had left the Wreckers. They were a pain in the aft to deal with. He just silently hoped they weren't heading for Earth, of all places. Them, combined with the forces the Decepticons already had... it would make it an interesting battle, that was for sure. But unfortunately one Wheeljack might not be able to see... but could hopefully prevent from happening.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

He spoke the words casually, masking his apprehension for the imminent battle, as always. Evil chuckles answered his question, though whether it was from one or many he could not tell, and the source seemed to be from all around him. Yes. He definitely knew who they were, if their scrambled energy signatures that were easy to recognise but hard to pinpoint hadn't been enough of an indication before. Drawing his weapons from his back to have them at the ready- who knew from experience how fast one of them was- he listened intently as he tried to pick up anything that gave away their position. Unfortunately for him, this planet had no sun, and it was making it incredibly hard for him to be able to see. Why was darkness always working in the favour of the enemy?

The chuckling died, and a single voice rang out, smug and purring,

"The normal cliche, is it? Come now 'Jackie, you'd think we deserved a bit better than that..."

Soft snickers followed the words. But Wheeljack was not to be thwarted by the soft taunting of shadows.

"Why don't you come out of hiding, and I'll give you _just _what I think you deserve."

If anything, the words only caused more laughter and amusement. Together they were united, Wheeljack was well aware of that. Some of them were less likely to get offended, if the others were able to laugh it off. He couldn't provoke them without an extraordinary amount of time and preparation, or trick them into attacking. They'd do it when they wanted, on their terms, at their choice. The best he could do was stay on guard, and escape with his life. There would be no death here today. The effort alone would end up killing him: the minute he focussed on one, all the others would hit him with their worst attacks. The mech knew it from experience. He also knew that they were not known for letting their prey escape too many times, before they went all-out and chopped them down, 'til they were nothing but dust in the wind. He could only hope that he was enough of an entertaining sport, that they had no hopes of pursuing him, and would let him be for another time. He was in no condition to be doing this fighting.

Carefully, he glanced around, trying to see into the darkness, but also trying to keep one of them from surprising him. For all he knew, they could have him surrounded, and would be waiting for the oppurtune moment to spring forward and attack. He couldn't give them an opening. Couldn't let them take him by surprise. He'd seen firsthand what they did to mechs who got overconfident, or didn't watch their backs. They were... in a word... fiesty. And he didn't want to end up like that poor unsuspecting warrior who'd seemed to think the war was all fun and games. Unfortunately, he didn't actually live long enough to be able to "learn" his lesson, but the point had been made rather clear... if not in a rather gruesome manner. Still. As a Wrecker, it wasn't one of the worst things Wheeljack had seen.

"Hiding, 'Jack?" that same voice mocked, seeming to come from everywhere but nowhere, "We aren't hiding. In fact we're right... in... plain... _sight."_

_Shadowhunter._

His processor snapped down on the name in recognition of the voice, and Wheeljack spun around on his heel as the last word was hissed into his audio receptor, taking a swing at the form that was standing closeby. Foolishly, however, his reactions seemed to have distracted him from the first lesson in dealing with these guys - don't focus your attention on only one. Shadowhunter gave him a vicious grin before easily ducking out of the way and back into the shadows, leaving Wheeljack just enough time to quickly roll out of the way of a familiar attack- another one of them had rushed at him from behind. Dust was thrown up in the air as his second attacker was forced to skid to a stop, managing to twirl around as they did so, so that they could lunge forward and attempt an unexpected attack on Wheeljack before darting back into the shadows.

Wheeljack hissed quietly as their weapon of choice- something that slightly resembled an enlarged Earthen dagger- grazed over his armour, just managing to maneuver out of the way again so that it couldn't cause any serious damage. His spark was already hammering away in it's chamber, and he swallowed thickly as he cautiously glanced around again. Primus frag it, that last attacker had been fast. It was pure luck that he'd been able to dodge her last attack, and he knew from experience that luck was only on your side for so long in a battle, before it decided to switch allegiances. And there was only one Decepticon who, in Wheeljack's experience, could move that damn fast- Silverbullet. Adeptly named by the Decepticons, if he could say so himself. Their speed was almost... intimidating.

"Stop playing games," Wheeljack growled, voice challenging, "and come out and fight me like real warriors."

There was a scoff at that, somewhere off to his left. Quickly reacting to one of their mistakes, Wheeljack made a lunge into the darkness, weapons swinging. And then, as usual, all Pit broke loose.

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